Inadequacy
by Cafe Au Liet
Summary: Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were made for each other. Funny how they don't seem to know it themselves. My own take on how Royai came to be.
1. Chapter 1

Take two. Haha. Happy new year! I think this'll be a little serious... I'll inject some humor when I can. Enjoy. C:

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#

"I don't expect that I'll ever come back." His voice was colder than the snow on the ground as he said his _goodbye _on that freezing winter day in the east.

Riza couldn't seem to remember how to breathe. "Mr. Mustang," she tried, her voice cracking slightly. "I...father will be furious." _Quick. Say something to get him to reconsider! _She panicked.

"It's too late, Ms. Hawkeye," the eighteen year old chuckled, the sound grim in the cold air. "Besides, he's not the only one who's angry." His eyes turned harder than she'd ever seen them.

"You know he hates the military," she said quietly, appealing. "He blames them for my mother's..."

"I know," he breathed out and closed his eyes. "But I want to enlist." _I want to change this country, even if I have to start at the very bottom._

Roy's dream had always to become a state alchemist. An alchemist for the people. Plus, he'd get a head start on a military career. If he were accepted to become a state alchemist then he didn't need to attend the military academy. He'd achieve the rank of Major instantly. He'd have all the resources in the military. And best of all, he would be nearer to his goal.

But there was no way he could become a state alchemist if his pigheaded teacher refused to teach him anything but the most basic skills of alchemy. Berthold Hawkeye had secrets, secrets that he did not share to Roy, no matter how hard Roy worked. In his teacher's eyes, Roy would never be ready. And Roy was pissed off.

Earlier, the boy, barely eighteen, had spoken offhandedly about his dream to the older Hawkeye. That had proven to be disastrous. His teacher had positively exploded.

"You fool. If your dream is only to become a dog of the military, pack your belongings and leave. Don't waste any more of my time."

"Master, I only meant I wanted to change..." he had trailed off when he saw the glare directed at him. "Your wife's death wasn't the military's fault, Ms. Hawkeye told me she'd died in chi-"

"Don't you dare speak of her to me! She's gone, because of them!" he had roared, almost raving. "And if you think I'm still going to teach you Flame alchemy, then you're an imbecile. I am not letting you become a state alchemist. You will regret it."

"How are you so sure of what I'll regret?" Roy had shot back, rising to his full height. "I have the best of intentions and this is the most plausible way I could come up wi-"  
"Sometimes good intentions are not enough, boy," Hawkeye had spoken in a quiet voice, his tone indistinguishable. Then in an irritated tone, he'd said, "You're nothing but a fool, if you think otherwise."

That had ticked Roy off. If he were anything, it wasn't foolish. His pride took a blow and he burst, long simmering sentiments suddenly pouring out of his mouth.

"Were you ever planning to advance my studies? You seemed content to teach me the same things over and over again. I want to do something with my life, and this," he had emphasized, "is a waste of time. This is getting me nowhere, _master._" He said the last word in spite.

Before the older man could react, Roy had angrily stalked out of the study, slamming the door behind him. He had barely noticed a teenaged girl watching him with wary eyes as he had stomped off into room down the hall.

That had done it. If his own teacher did not believe in his ability, both in his alchemy and making decisions for himself, Roy decided that he didn't need him or his alchemy. There were many other teachers out there who had secrets of their own. And they would probably never be as pigheaded as Berthold Hawkeye in sharing their knowledge.

These thoughts stayed with him until he'd gathered most of his belongings into a suitcase. There hadn't been much. Quietly he slipped out of the room, his room, as it had been for the last five, six years of his life. He made his way out the front door and did not deign to look back. He was determined to leave it all in his past.

He had almost reached the road when he heard her.

"Mr. Mustang! Mr. Mustang!" she cried out urgently. This time, he turned around.

And when he did, he found the quiet girl of fifteen whom he had lived with for almost a third of his life. He was fond of her, yes. But she had always been meek and shy, to the point of seeming invisible.

Her face was flushed, and she looked embarrassed when she reached him. "Mr. Mustang...are you...leaving?" she asked in a worried voice.

"Yes. And I don't expect I'll ever come back, Ms. Hawkeye."

She froze at his words. "Mr. Mustang, I...father will be furious."

"It's too late, Ms. Hawkeye. Besides, he's not the only one who's angry," he told her. _Why was his teacher such an obstinate-_

"You know he hates the military," she said quietly, appealing. "He blames them for my mother's..."

"I know," he breathed out and closed his eyes. "But I want to enlist."

Silence reigned for a few moments. His eyes were still closed, and she waited for him to go on. She hadn't known how to reply to his last admission.

Having gained some semblance of control over his emotions, he managed a resigned smile as he shoved his free hand into his coat pocket. She was right. Her father was going to blow up when he'd find out Roy was gone, what with all the time and effort he had put into him. He grimaced at the thought.

The blonde clasped her hands together self-consciously. "Are you sure you won't be coming back?"

He stared into her deep brown eyes, large and seemingly sorrowful, as if she had not wanted him to go. "Why, do you want me to, Ms. Hawkeye?" he asked teasingly, and her face colored. He shook his head before she could reply. "I'm going to go look...for my purpose in life."

"Then...I wish you all the best," she told him after pausing slightly. "So I guess this is goodbye."

"Yes, goodbye," he replied quietly. "Until we meet again."

"Good luck. I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

Roy smiled at her again. "Thank you, Riza," he said, using her first name for the first time. With that, he turned on his heel and made in the direction of the nearest train station. When he looked back, he saw the front porch, empty of life. She must have gone back in. There was no trace of her. No trace of the girl he had passively appreciated for her assiduous housekeeping, the girl who'd study him with curious eyes as he'd walk into the room, the girl he'd confide in when he needed a friend, the girl who would soon become the _purpose_ he was looking for.

Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye were made for each other. But at this point, they hadn't realized it yet.

#

"First class Private Mustang!" Maes greeted his friend as he took a seat at the mess table.

Roy glanced up at the bespectacled man, his expression one of censure. "Not for until three weeks. It's Cadet Mustang for now, Maes. Do what you want but don't get me in trouble, promoting me just like that."

"Three weeks is all! Then we'll be real military men, Roy-boy!" Twenty two year old Maes Hughes grinned at his best friend. Though two years older than Roy, they had enlisted the same year, and so were often in the same classes in the academy. Notably, they were roommates. In three weeks, they would graduate, finally.

"Don't call me that either," Roy chastised, taking a violent bite off his sandwich.

Maes grinned. "Isn't that what Lisette calls you? I was going through your fan mail the other night. She sent you a note, thanking you for being her dinner companion the other night. Just dinner?" Maes asked, in a teasing tone.

Roy, twenty years old and in his last year in the academy, had become renown as a ladies' man, dating girls left and right but never getting serious. The few female cadets liked him because he was a complete gentleman, unlike the other men in the military who thought the army was no place for girls. The ladies around Central liked him because he was attractive, in and out of the tacky cadet uniform. Women, young and old, loved to catch glimpses of him when he walked around the city. His charm knew no bounds; it bordered on rougishness. Maes Hughes liked to poke fun at the guy, who in reality, wasn't doing it on purpose.

"Yes, only dinner. She invited me to go to the opening of her father's restaurant downtown." Roy glared at Maes. "Besides, why were you going through my mail stack?"

"You don't know your own capability, Roy," Maes grinned.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Now answer my other question!"

"I go through your mail all the time. They're mostly love letters and gifts from them ladies. You got a weird letter in the last batch, by the way. T'was from a girl, but it didn't seem like the usual gushy, flirty ones, sprayed in girly perfume. She addressed you as Mr. Mustang, so I assumed it wasn't from anyone like family."

Roy's interest was piqued. "Who was she? And what did you do with my mail?"

"Here they are, I almost forgot about them." He took a stack of envelopes from his coat pocket. "She signed it...Riza. Riza Hawksworth? Something like that."

"Riza Hawkeye?" Roy took them, the name registering in his mind and making his heart beat slightly faster. A sense of dread started to rise up in his chest. _Did something happen? It's been so long since you've heard from her, _Roy thought to himself. He had been writing to her at least once every three months, or when he remembered. After all, she was young and practically lived alone. The only letters he'd received from her were a couple of impersonal replies for the first few months. At times he wondered if the father and daughter were still inhabiting the stately but dilapidated manor in the East countryside.

"Yeah, that was the name." Maes watched Roy with interest as he opened the letter he was looking for.

_ Dear Mr. Mustang_

_ How is Central treating you? I am sorry I haven't returned any of your recent letters. It was probably quite rude of me, but I never had much to say... I am writing to you now because there's something... I cannot explain... It's my father. He's been asking for you. But not exactly. You see, Mr. Mustang, he's been sick for quite a while now, but he refuses to see any doctor for his frequent coughing and fevers. He hasn't been sleeping very well because of it. Sometimes he gets delirious from fever and he asks for you. I have a feeling he wants to discuss something with you, though he won't admit it up front. He was very...frustrated with you when he found out you left, but if it isn't too much trouble, maybe you could pay us a visit back here in the East. Despite what he says, I think he wants to talk to you about some important matter. Please consider the suggestion and do take care of yourself._

_ Riza Hawkeye_

Roy looked at the neat cursive on paper disbelievingly. Berthold Hawkeye, wanting to talk to him? Riza Hawkeye must be joking. But he knew the girl. She was slightly naive but hardly frivolous and didn't take most matters lightly. But here she was, telling him her father subconsciously wanted to talk to him. After the way he left, almost two years ago? Roy could imagine the verbal thrashing he'd receive when they came face to face. He winced at the mere thought. Then again, this could be his last chance at learning his master's alchemic secrets. If only he could convince Hawkeye the merits of being a state alchemist.

Roy Mustang decided then that he would take the first train East the day after his graduation ceremony.

#


	2. Chapter 2

Here's a chapter before I start school again. I can't wait for the next vacation. Enjoy!

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"Ms. Hawkeye."

She had heard the name countless of times, but it had been quite a while since she'd heard it said in the deep tone of his voice. It was somewhat unnerving.

"Mr. Mustang," she replied, her voice coming out weird and squeaky. She had been expecting him, but it was a bad time. She had made an appointment at the apothecary to procure something to treat her father, but she'd wanted to at least be in the vicinity while Roy Mustang and her father talked. Not that she wanted to eavesdrop. She just didn't want anything to happen to Roy. After all, she was the one who'd brought him back.

They stood there, eying each other. _My, Ms. Hawkeye, you've certainly changed_, Roy thought. Riza had been fifteen when he'd seen her last, and she was turning seventeen in just a few more months. She hadn't grown much, having already been tall for a fifteen year old, but her features had become more...delicate. She looked like a girl, with her narrow chin and the long eyelashes surrounding her familiar brown eyes. And then she had some...curves. Not much, but curves, nonetheless. Now those were not familiar. He forced himself to stop staring.

"May I come in?" Roy asked her, feeling awkward. _I shouldn't be thinking things like that about Riza Hawkeye._

She blinked. She too, had been pondering the slight changes he'd undergone as he stood at the door. Mr. Mustang was similar, yet different from when he had left. His eyes still had the darkest shade of night, the irises barely distinguishable from the pupils. At least they weren't covered by the unkempt bangs he used to sport. His complexion was tanner, as if he had spent hours under the sun- and he probably did so, exercising and training, for he had obviously bulked up some. He had a stronger build. He had been tall before, but he'd always been lanky. Not anymore.

"Y...yes, please, come in." Riza swung the door open wider to accommodate him. "Father is in his study. I hope you don't mind, but I have to fetch something from the apothecary. I'm sure he would prefer to talk to you alone, anyway, Mr. Mustang."

"It's fine." He grimaced and followed her down the hall. Memories flooded into him, the slightly musty smell of the carpet, the creaky wooden floor. He missed the days when he was young and blissfully ignorant.

"Father, you have a visitor," Riza said as she knocked on the door of her father's study. The only answer she received was a bout of coughing. She timidly pushed the door open because he never really acknowledged her.

Berthold Hawkeye was a grim sight as he sat at a worn wooden desk, hunched over scattered sheafs of paper. Roy didn't know what to feel, disgust or pity.

"Father," Riza called out. "Father." he answered in a noncommittal grunt and never paused in his scribbling.

"Master Hawkeye," Roy said in a louder voice.

Now that got his attention. The old man looked up with narrowed eyes.

"Mustang."

#

Riza sighed as she walked into the house with the medicine for her father. The kindly doctor she'd consulted about his symptoms had told her they pointed to consumption, which did not have a definite treatment. Experimental drugs were being created everyday, but nothing really stopped consumption, only slowed down the process. There was a chance the doctor was wrong, but if her father kept refusing to see the professional, there was no way to know. She looked around her. The place was tidy enough, but there were some things she couldn't fix by herself. The leaks on the roof, the peeling paint on the walls... Her father. Maybe Roy Mustang would be able to help.

She went to prepare some tea for her father and Roy, mechanically moving about the kitchen. As she waited for the water to boil, her thoughts drifted to the man upstairs.

Roy Mustang had always been a big part of her childhood. She'd come to regard him as a friend, when he arrived. They had never been formally introduced, and it seemed her father looked upon their interaction with contempt. But he couldn't keep them apart, couldn't watch them every single minute, not with his precious research. Riza thoroughly hated Alchemy. It was the one thing that took her father away. Absentmindedly, she reached her lower back and traced the lines through her shirt. The only good thing that came with her father's obsession over alchemy was the boy chosen to be her father's apprentice.

#

Roy Mustang approached her warily as she sat on the steps of back door of the house, a week after he first arrived in the Hawkeye estate. "Hello," he squeaked out. He'd seen her around the house, but he'd never had the chance to talk to her. Master Hawkeye gave him the afternoon off, dismissing him unceremoniously and slamming the door to his study. He'd decided to walk around the house in search for the mysterious girl.

Riza Hawkeye jumped a little bit when she heard his voice. She looked up from the book she was reading.

"May I sit here?" he motioned to the space beside her.

She nodded, watching him.

"I'm Roy Mustang, twelve years old. You must be Master Hawkeye's daughter." He held out his hand in greeting.

The nine year-old took it, giving him a shy, but warm smile. "Hello, Mr. Mustang. My name is Riza Hawkeye."

#

She couldn't wait to get home from school. It was a Friday afternoon, and Mr. Mustang always got them off. They would sit on the back steps, watch the ducks in the lake behind the house. She couldn't wait to see him again.

He sat at their usual meeting place, cheese sandwiches at hand. Riza would come home from school soon. _Oh, I mean, Ms. Hawkeye would come home from school soon, _he thought.

Roy wanted to call the girl by her given name, but she had called him Mr. Mustang, and he'd assumed it wasn't proper to call her by her first name. So "Ms. Hawkeye" had stuck.

"Mr. Mustang," she greeted him, timidly taking a seat next to him.

#

Riza remembered the Friday afternoons when they had shared the sandwiches he'd made and bask in the sun, until Roy suggested they play a game like tag or hide and seek. She had been a boring child, she noted. Not at all adventurous. Even her classmates knew she would rather sit and read at the side than play dodgeball. Roy had enticed her to get up and play, teaching her how to throw skipping stones into the lake, to fire a slingshot, to carve letters into trees. Roy had come from the city, but he had liked the outdoors very much.

Riza smiled at the memories and reminisced some more until the kettle whistled. She was pouring the liquid out with care when she'd heard him.

"Help! Anyone! Help!"

Her blood ran cold and she dropped the empty teacup in her hand. Not minding the crash, she rushed up the creaky stairs.

"Help!"

It was Roy's voice. _What could have happened?_ She swung the door open and paused to catch her breath. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene. Her father, in Mr. Mustang's arms. The blue military uniform of the younger man covered in dark stains of...blood? She leaned against the door. Her father's desk was also covered in blood.

"Riza!" Roy shouted at her, and she came to her senses.

But it was too late.

#

"Thank you, Mr. Mustang. It's very generous of you, to pay for all..." Riza glanced at the burial plot where her father now lay, next to his wife. "...this." It was the evening of the death- there was no use for a funeral where no one would come, was Riza's reason, so she decided to have the body buried immediately.

Roy looked at the young girl, her eyes showing weariness. But even then, Riza hadn't shown any tears. In fact, she seemed determined to mourn quietly. Roy wanted to offer her some comfort, but he wasn't really sure how. He remembered his master's last words to him, just this morning, entrusting Riza into his care. At sixteen, she was almost an adult, but Roy couldn't shake the feeling that she was younger and more vulnerable than she seemed.

"It's fine, Ms. Hawkeye. It's the least a disciple could do for his master. But I worry about what will become of you. Do you have any relatives you can turn to?" he asked her gently.

She shook her head. "My mother's family disapproved of my father. He was a decade older than her, but she was very much in love. So they ran away together. They were both estranged from their immediate families."

"What are you planning to do?" he asked her.

"Fortunately, my father provided me with a decent education. I'll...come up with something."

He gave her a worried look. "I see...well, don't hesitate to contact me, if you ever need help. You'll know where to find me, I'll probably be in the military for life."

"For life?"

"Yes."

She looked at him, this time, her face contorted into worry. "Please don't die," she implored, and instantly regretted it. _How could you ask such a thing of him? _She chided in her mind. But with the death of her father so fresh in her mind... She couldn't help but worry about the losing anyone else.

He frowned, almost comically. "Please, don't say such ominous things." Then his tone turned wistful. "I can't guarantee it, because as a soldier of this country, I may be just one in the thousands who will give up their lives. I am nothing but a soldier, a number, a pawn. Yet..."

She watched him quietly. It took all her willpower not to reach out and pat his back, or hold his hand, in a sudden desire to offer him comfort.

"Yet if I am able to become one of the foundation stones of this country, and to protect everyone with these hands...I think I'll be satisfied... That's why I learned alchemy." He then faced her with an apologetic face. "In the end, I never even got to learn Master's secrets. I'm sorry. I ended up babbling about my naïve dreams." Suddenly, he felt embarrassed. He'd never shared his dream to anyone before. Suddenly, it occurred to him that it might have sounded stupid, even.

"No," Riza spoke up. "I think...it's a wonderful dream."

Roy looked at her, a pleasurable feeling rush through him. A sense of success, even if somewhat undeserved, had overcome him. "Thank you. It's nice to hear-"

"The secrets my father left behind," Riza interrupted him, her demeanor obviously nervous, but determined. She did not dare look at the man beside her. "He said that they were written in a code that no average alchemist would be able to decipher."

Roy's heart started to beat slightly faster in excitement. "So Master left behind his manuscripts after all?"

"No," she replied, gaze still averted, and his heart sank. "There are no manuscripts. Father said it would pose a problem if his research was destroyed or fell into the wrong hands."

"Then what do you mean-"

"Mr. Mustang," she interrupted yet again, her voice grave. "That dream of yours...can I entrust my back to it? Is it...alright to believe in a future where we can live in happiness?"

He didn't know how to answer. _Yes, _he wanted to say, to assure her. _But that would be awfully assuming. _Mustang didn't know if his dream was plausible. Yes. Maybe. No... How does she expect him to answer?

The graveyard was deathly quiet as they stood there. Mustang was utterly confused, but he sensed that whatever he answered, there was still a chance he would be wrong. Instead, he held his tongue.

She seemed to sense his hesitance. "No, don't answer that. I do want to believe in it, as you do. I'll give you father's secrets. I'm convinced that you deserve it. I just hope...that you will continue to strive for that dream of yours." Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were serious. "Please, stay the night with me, Mr. Mustang."

#

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It's moving! Yay.


	3. Chapter 3

I've got a semi-plot in my mind! Yes!

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Mustang glanced at her in surprise, his eyes wide. "I...Ms. Hawkeye-"

Her cheeks colored as she realized how her request sounded. "No, I meant- I'm sorry, no! Please, stay over at the house as my guest... I'll prepare your old room..."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her flustered state. At least the air had lightened up. Roy had felt like he was being choked. "I...I just need time to think, before I show you..." she trailed off.

He nodded. He had been planning to take up lodging at the inn, so the invitation to stay was not unwelcome. Besides, she was going to be all alone in her house. He was worried about her. "Sure. Thank you...for trusting me enough. I would be very grateful to have access to your father's research. I'll do my best to decipher his code," he promised.

"Yes..." Her face was flushed but she managed to look him in the eyes. "Come on, it's getting cold. We'd better start for the house.."

They walked back in a comfortable silence.

#

"Good morning, Ms. Hawkeye," he greeted her when he walked into the kitchen the next morning.

She nodded absentmindedly as she regarded him with steely eyes. "I'm ready."

"Ready? For what, Ms. Hawkeye?"

"To show you father's life's work," she told him as she stood and strode out of the kitchen. He followed her, full of curiosity. He hadn't wanted to rush her, but he was honestly excited by the thought of learning his Master's alchemy.

She entered the library. Roy knew it very well. The book cases where her father's collection was stored, the desk at the corner of the room, where Roy himself used to spend hours at. "I thought you'd said that Master hadn't left any manuscripts...M...Ms. Hawkeye! What are you doing?" he sputtered out the last part as Riza began to unbutton her blouse, standing in front of him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, turning around. But Roy could see that she was still fumbling with the fastenings. She wasn't going to stop.

"Ms. Hawkeye, why are you undressing, here, in-" Heat flooded his face, and Roy didn't know whether to leave the room, or... What was she thinking? Surely, she knew that she was undressing in front of a man.

"I'm showing you my father's secrets," she answered nonchalantly. The next thing Roy heard was a soft laugh. "Mr. Mustang, you can open your eyes now. I'm...decent."

Roy had shut his eyes, and now he hesitantly opened them. There Riza stood, facing the wall as she eyed him over her shoulder. She held up her white blouse against her front modestly. But then a particular body part caught his attention, and held onto it entirely. Her back, covered in ink markings.

Mustang approached her carefully, eyes never leaving the large sigil that was...tattooed onto her back. He stared, horrified, and he glanced up at her face. "He...he tattooed it onto you?" he choked out.

Warily, Riza nodded. She didn't know how Mustang would react.

Unexpected anger coursed through him. "How could he- to his daughter?" he mumbled. She tensed as his cold hands gripped her bare shoulders a bit too forcefully. Suddenly, she felt his forehead, his hair against the small of her back. "Riza... I'm sorry He cared about you. He truly did. His last words...he apologized to you."

"I...know. He did care about me, even if he did care for his alchemy more. But I was willing. He didn't do it without my permission," she spoke the words carefully. "I know...it meant safeguarding his most precious secrets, and...I told him I could do it. He warned me that I could never let anyone see, not until I knew that he would use it as my father intended."

He lifted his head up. "But...you can't hide your back forever, if you get married, or-"

She laughed, a hollow laugh, not looking at him. "I knew what I was giving up. Don't worry, Mr. Mustang. Just...take it already."

Roy was quiet for a while, before he turned her around. She clutched the blouse to her front tightly, still slightly embarrassed. "You loved him, didn't you? You loved him enough to carry that burden...It's alright to cry, you know. He was your only family."

She looked up at him, her expression distressed. "I...no, I dont..." Her face crumpled as she let out a strangled sound, as if she were struggling with herself, and she burst into tears. Roy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. She soaked his shirt with silent sobs as he spoke soothingly in her ear. "He was a brilliant man and he had his faults. Sometimes, I wished...I wished I had been able to meet your father while your mother was still alive. Maybe he would have been different. But now I realize that I can't blame him. His wife died, and a part of him went with her..."

They just stood there, Mustang rubbing her back, trying to ease her sadness. "I just...don't know what to do. I'm alone now. I've always had father, at least...But now..." she spoke frantically in between hiccups.

"Sh... You're not alone, Riza. You have me," he assured her. "Though I don't now if there's any comfort to be found in that."

She let out a wet-sounding laugh. "Sorry...for soaking...you shirt..."

"Don't be sorry, Riza. You'll feel better once it's all out," he told her, and they stayed that way, with her in his arms for quite a while.

Her hiccups disappeared and she calmed down enough to remember just what she wanted to do in the first place. She extricated herself from his grip and turned her back to him. "Mr. Mustang, if you want, you could sit, and I could stand in front of you-" she suggested.

"But that would be uncomfortable for you." He traced the lines with his finger in awe and she let out an involuntary shiver. "It might take very long," he warned her. "How about on a bed? So you can lie down."

Riza seemed totally relaxed as she lead Roy up to his old bedroom. He had a large desk and plenty of reference material there, so she thought it would be better than hers. He was kind of panicking, what, with her half-naked in such close proximity. Not that it was his first time seeing a girl in a state of undress. Sure, he only saw her back, but her waist was small and she had such delicate curves and smooth skin...and her throat, it was long and elegant. Her lips, lusciously pink. He gulped, madly trying to find something else to think about. _Her back...yes, her small black, all covered in reddish-brown ink, the color of her eyes..._

She sat down awkwardly on the bed, wondering what to do when Roy frantically pulled a pillow out from under the duvet. He placed it so that she could rest her head on it."Here...I..." Still awkwardly, she lay down on her tummy and pressed her cheek against the soft pillow, bringing her arms around it. It smelled like Roy, a clean scent of shampoo, mixed with a faint outdoor smell. She actually didn't mind it one bit.

"I'll...copy it down onto paper, but it might take a while," he warned her again, his throat feeling dry. A few minutes ago, he held her in his arms, but the only thing he was feeling was the urge to comfort her. Now he was feeling a totally different urge he was trying so very hard to repress. _No way in hell, Roy Mustang!_ She felt the mattress depress under his weight as he hesitantly sat next to her and leaned over her back.

"That's alright. I don't have any place to be," she said.

"Just...tell me if you get uncomfortable or anything," he told her, feeling undeniably uncomfortable himself.

Roy worked in silence for a while and he thought that she might have dozed off. Her back moved as she breathed but she recoiled from his touch as he traced a line now and then. "Riza?" It came out scratchy.

"Yes, Mr. Mustang?" she replied, her own tone cool, though she did start a little bit. She turned her head to face him, with difficulty.

"Oh. I just thought- that maybe you were asleep- since you weren't saying anything..." he mumbled. He saw her expression. "What's wrong?"

"You haven't said my first name in a long while. You said it earlier too..."

"Right. I'm sorry Ms. Hawkeye, I guess it was sort of rude for me to-"

"No, it's alright. I like it better when you use my first name. It feels very formal to be called Ms. Hawkeye," she smiled.

"Well, you can call me Roy too." He put down his pad and pen. "Let's take a break."

She sat up and carefully buttoned up her shirt while he faced the other way. "Would you like some tea, Roy?" she asked as she got up. He faced her and nodded. "Thanks, that sounds great."

#

"She died, trying to bring a child into the world."

"That must have been awful. I can't imagine how Master felt." Roy sipped his tea as Riza went on with her story. Roy had asked Riza a question that had been bugging him, all those years. He had planned to ask Berthold Hawkeye, but he never got the chance. Why had her father been so opposed to the military, he'd asked, and Riza hesitantly led the topic to her mother. Roy remembered that Riza's father blamed the military for his wife's death, and so he listened carefully.

"Father was angry, so very angry. He was overcome with hate."

Roy looked up in consternation. "But it was hardly your mother's fault that-"

"No," she interrupted him and shook her head. "The child she was carrying, it wasn't his." She said it in such a matter-of-fact tone that it took a while for it to sink in. "My parents, they were very much in love, even I could see that, as a kid. My mother would never have cheated on him."

Roy kept silent and watched as she stared into her cup.

"A military man did it to her. She had been on her way home from helping someone in town. She was a midwife, you see. And she had been called to help a young woman in labor. It was late when she started for our home, and on the way, she was accosted by some men. Soldiers who had been drinking. When they were done with her, they left her on the streets. Someone took pity on her and brought her home. Father was outraged. I didn't know what had happened to her, at that young age. All I knew is that she was different. She never smiled anymore, never looked happy. In the end, I think it was the sadness that did away with her."

Roy pondered it. No wonder Berthold Hawkeye didn't like the military. For such a disaster to happen... "And...the child?" he asked, curious.

"He didn't make it either," she said, her tone emotionless. "But enough about that. There's the present to think about, it's never good to dwell on the past," she looked at him, a sad smile on her face. "Now, let's get back to father's legacy."

He nodded as she went to resume her position on the bed. Roy was thinking of what she'd said, about not dwelling on the past. "I'm worried about your future, though. What do you intend to do?" he asked as he picked up the pad again and sat.

"I had been thinking about that. I think I'll go to East city to get a job. After all, there's...nothing left for me here. No one will hire a teenager to work. I think I'll find some work as a maid, or a housekeeper..." she mumbled, looking away.

Roy looked at her with worry again. "Why don't you...come back with me to Central city?" Even he was surprised at his own words. "I'll be living in the barracks and I might even be posted in another area, but it's a safe-enough place," he told her.

"Central would be...new," she considered. "It sounds like a place of many job opportunities..." _And the idea having Roy near is good. At least I won't be alone. _"I think I'll be alright, living on my own, but if you know of some inexpensive lodgings, that would be nice."

"I know just the place," Roy said, disbelieving that he was even thinking about the place he was going to suggest. _Don't say it. _"My mother's."

#


	4. Chapter 4

That was too long. Sorry! Please enjoy!

* * *

#

Roy had tried to decode the thing for a week, without much success. It was a truly complicated myriad of latin words and esoteric burned the midnight oil trying to connect the circles to the text, but most nights ended with Riza fast asleep on his bed while he took to the not-very-comfortable armchair next to it. Of course, the next morning, she'd apologize, for falling asleep, as if she could have helped it.

Roy was usually good with conversation but he just didn't know what to say to the silently grieving Riza. Especially when she was topless and laid on top of his bed. Small talk seemed like a ridiculous way to pass time, and it took too much effort. The silence was comfortable enough, but the grim mood that hung around ever since his master's death was starting to choke him. So Roy was not very surprised to find himself eagerly anticipating seeing his family. His _sisters_ would know what to do. What to say.

Riza's melancholy was very obvious. It had Roy feeling quite protective of her, and unlike his usually more light-hearted self. Roy had to get back to Central soon, and was glad he'd thought to invite Riza to come with him, despite his misgivings. She needed company, a change of pace. They'd taken an early morning train to East city and from there got on the overnight passenger train to Central. It was packed with commuters and so they'd had to share a compartment, which neither of them minded. They kept an strange companionship throughout the trip, where neither said much.

Roy didn't bother knocking on the door when they arrived. He turned a key to open the large door of the place, a large building downtown. Riza had been forewarned that Roy's mother owned a bar. The place had also been Roy's childhood home, where he'd lived before he went to the Hawkeyes.

They crossed the threshold into a dark room. Riza could see the outlines of tables and seats and even the bar as sunlight streamed in through drapes that weren't pulled together all the way. Roy undid them and light flooded the room, revealing a charming wooden interior and hardwood furniture. The bar, with its gleaming marble top, stretched across one side of the room. Wineglasses, shot glasses and bottles of a variety of shapes and sized lined the walls, neatly arranged.

"They must all be getting ready for the night," Roy said, smiling as he entered and motioned for her to sit at a bar stool. The place was clean, not what Riza imagined. Not that she'd ever been into a bar.

"It's so clean," she murmured, taking a seat. "and very quiet," she continued. _In fact, it seems deserted, _she thought. That's when she heard an earsplitting shriek.

"ROY!" It resounded through the room and Roy was just barely able to make a distressed face before he was promptly shoved back against the bar. "Oof!"

"I can't believe you didn't invite any of us to your graduation service! You could have at least told us that you were leaving! By the time we heard that the last batch graduated, you disappeared from the face the earth!" a dark-haired woman pouted at Roy, who held his lower back, which had crashed against the hard edge of the bar. Several women, six of them, also filed into the room. Some were stick thin, others more voluptuous. The one thing they had in common was that they were all beautiful.

"I couldn't risk getting injured," Roy growled as he glared at the newcomer. Riza watched, her eyes widened slightly. "I was busy. I visited my old master. Everyone, this is Riza Hawkeye, master's daughter. Riza, these women work here, I've known them for years." He proceeded to name each one while Riza struggled to commit them to memory. The all looked to be in their late twenties.

"Hello, it's very nice to meet you," Riza told them, and was greeted by wary smiles and curious chattering.

"How old are you, Riza?"

"Where are you from?"

"Riza, are you Roy's girlfriend?

"No!" Riza cried, a little too vehemently. "I mean, I'm not-" Riza started to say as a flush crept up her cheeks.

Roy frowned. Riza's 'No' sounded much too forceful. But she was right. "She's not my girlfriend, Gen!" Roy interrupted, slightly annoyed.

"Who's not your girlfriend, Roy?" a booming voice interjected, and all heads turned to another woman who was walking in. "Stop it, girls, you'll scare our guest. Start getting to work!" The women who were crowded around them scrambled across the room, and Riza watched in amazement as they proceeded to sweep, wipe and polish every surface of the bar to a shinier gleam. Which couldn't have been possible, really.

The lone man in the room gave his mother a hug. At least, Riza supposed it was his mother.

"Christmas, this is Riza, Master Hawkeye's daughter. Riza, this is Madame Christmas, proprietress of the Duchess," Roy said as he turned to Riza. Then he continued in a softer voice, "She's the only thing that comes close to having a real mom, but I'm not allowed to tell anyone. It's a secret that we're related." Even with the quieter tone he used, female ears all around pricked up in interest.

Riza nodded, intending to assure Roy of her silence, and greeted the intimidating woman. Madame Christmas was quite...heavyset, her age seemingly having taken a toll on her appearance. One could tell she had been pretty once; but even she knew that that was a long time ago. Still, she had similar features to Roy. The coloring, Riza supposed.

The older woman raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. The others recognized the trust Roy had in Riza, letting her in on the true relationship he had with his aunt. "That's right, it is a secret. It wouldn't do for me to be recognized as his mother. I wouldn't want to be responsible for this ungrateful brat who didn't invite us to his graduation ceremony!" She shot Roy a look, and he winced. Of course, that wasn't the real reason.

"Sorry," he grumbled. "I didn't think it a good idea. Everyone already thinks I'm the most promiscuous male in my class, what would they think if I had a gaggle of beautiful ladies in attendance as my guests?" he asked with a grin.

Christmas smacked him on the head. "Don't try that charm on me, young man. You're still in trouble. Now, what brings you here?"

Roy's demeanor turned serious, his eyes boring into Christmas'. "Riza needs a place to stay. Her father, Master Hawkeye, passed away just last week. She has no relatives to stay with, so I-"

"Why didn't you mention it? I'm sorry for your loss. But why don't you stay here?" Christmas asked Riza as soon as she figured out what Roy was going to say. "There's more than enough room."

"I...would be very thankful if I could rent some space..."

"You poor thing, can't be much older than eighteen, can you?" The older woman gave her a sad smile. "You're very welcome to stay. We all live upstairs."

"I'm sixteen, ma'am. Thank you so much, I promise to work hard to get a job and to repay my debt."

"I have a feeling you'll fit just right in," Christmas told her, waving off her insistence. "Em," she called to one of the girls. "Prepare Roy's old room. Riza will be using it now."

#

"So Riza," the girl called Jasmine started. "You're looking for a job?"

Roy, Riza and the seven girls had settled down into two booths, and Roy, who seemed to have known each girl from his childhood was bombarded with questions about the military, the academy and who were the most good-looking soldiers (Roy refused to comment). Soon the girls grew bored and started to focus on the timid-looking girl who sat next to Roy.

"Yes, I am," she conceded shyly. She felt so overwhelmed by these beautiful women, and who could blame her? She felt like a dumpy sack next to the long-legged model lookalikes.

Daphne, the petite brunette, grinned devilishly as Jasmine sent her a look. Furtively taking a glance at Roy before focusing her attention on the blonde, she posed the question: "Well, Riza, would you be interested in our occupation?"

Roy, who had been drinking some tea, took everything he had to keep himself from spewing the liquid out. "Daff!" he shouted, sounding upset.

Daphne continued to smile, innocently now, while the others snickered. "What's wrong with Riza becoming a _waitress_, Roy? " she reasoned out to him in a singsongy voice.

"No!" he didn't want to discuss it right now. He wasn't even sure if Riza knew what that meant... "It's just..."

"It sounds like a nice job," Riza suddenly spoke up, and all eyes shot to her. After a slight pause, the room was filled with laughing, giggling, guffawing. It was then when Riza started to feel apprehensive.

"No, you don't understand, Riza. They aren't ordinary waitresses. They...work in the bar," Roy tried to explain as Genevieve, the tallest one, the one who'd tackled Roy earlier, started to tear up.

The woman stopped laughing to say, "Yes, young one, we're special...waitresses, who serve to customers'...specific...needs." A wave of giggling washed in anew.

"Oh, then they're bartenders...I'm not sure if I can do any drink mixing or..." Riza amended in dismay. She looked so perturbed, even Roy could not cease his lips from quirking up a bit at the sides.

"Oh my, you're such a dear!" Jasmine laughed. "Don't worry. You don't have to be a...bartender. We'll look for a different job for you, if you want. 'Sides, you're too young to get into a bar."

Roy frowned. Right. He'd forgotten how Riza would be unsafe from the patrons of the bar. Sure it was respectable enough, but it did get crowded and too crazy at times. "Riza, promise me you won't get anywhere near here when operation hours start. Stay upstairs and lock your door every night."

Another girl, Jane, rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, Roy. The entrance to the residence from here is blocked off. If you want to get to the upper floor, you'll have to take the stairs that were built just to get to the entrance of the apartments. It's located at the side of the building. I'll show you later," she offered the blonde. Riza nodded and smiled in thanks.

"Good. Also, I want you guys to remember that she's only sixteen," he said as he glanced around meaningfully.

Riza looked at Roy- was sixteen really that young? She thought she would be okay.

#

"I've never seen Roy that serious," Jane said thoughtfully as she strode down the hallway alongside Riza. Jane had offered to show Riza to her room and get settled down. Roy had gone back to the barracks to report to his commanding officer, and notify him of his arrival.

Riza looked up at the older woman, who continued: "He must care about you some, to go to such lengths."

The younger girl shook her head. "No, I don't think so. I believe he's doing it because of my father. My father's last wish..." she trailed off with a wistful smile, her brows drawn together, as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say next. "Roy said that my father's last wish was for his to take care of me. I'm not sure what possessed him to say that, but I don't want Roy's concern if he were forced into it and were only duty bound to a dying man's last will. But don't get me wrong; I appreciate all that he's done, to get me a place to stay and all, so I'll do my best to learn to sustain myself and become less of a burden to him."

Jane looked skeptical. "Well, I wouldn't say forced, but I'm sure he wanted to respect your father's last wishes. He did have a choice. Then again, there have been a lot of times when Roy was strongly motivated by self-interest. He hides it very well, too." Jane spoke as she swung open the door they had just stopped in front of. "Why, I remember that as a child, he would never do the chores unless he was promised some kind of award, the naughty child..."

Roy's _older sister _started the anecdote about Roy's alleged selfishness and Riza listened. Then she noticed with a shiver how her right hand had unconsciously travelled up her back, and was resting where her father's secrets lay.

_Strongly motivated by self-interest. He doesn't care about you _that_ way, Riza. Don't even go there._

_#_


	5. Chapter 5

I am super sorry for this being so intensely late. It's already April. :O But I only recently went on summer vacation and between now and January, I kind of forgot about this. Neither did I have much inspiration. Then last Thursday I got an email saying somebody reviewed this, and poof! Inspiration. Haha. Well, enjoy! And I hope that you didn't forget the rest of the story. :D

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Riza hummed to herself as the eggs sizzled in the frying pan in front of her. It was about eight in the morning but as usual, she was the only soul awake in the communal kitchen. Everyday for the past three months saw her tying on an apron and preparing hot meals, which the other girls appreciated. Christmas was always the first to wake, at eleven, and the other girls joined them in random order. Of course, eight was too early to start, but she was expecting someone else today.

"Good morning, Riza," the familiar deep voice called from behind her. She smiled as she transferred the fried eggs onto a plate. "Right on time," she answered, turning around to see him seating himself at the table. It was mornings like these she savored, with Roy coming to check up on her. It happened at least once a week, and he always called the night before to let her know. It was funny, because she knew not to expect anything from the visits. She knew Roy was just concerned for her. Even then. She found that something inside her lifted up every time the phone rang.

Twenty one-year old Roy sat upright in his chair, military uniform all starched up, because he knew it would not do to look sloppy. He was almost vain, in that way. They spent the meal with small talk, about the happenings in Central and Roy's recent promotion to Corporal. About her luck with finding a job. Riza hadn't been able to find a job in Central for an underaged girl who hasn't completed her education. Suddenly his tone took on a solemn turn. "I'm taking the State Alchemist exam today."

"Today?" Riza looked slightly stunned.

He grimaced. "In about an hour, actually."

"You've figured out how to start the fire?"

"I remembered something your dad used to keep around. There was a square of linen on his desk, and he was always rubbing it between his fingers. I used to think it was just a simple handkerchief."

"I remember that. He had it washed about once a week. He always told me to be careful about it, but I never questioned why."

"I've come across a material called ignition cloth. It was just the thing I needed to create a spark. I never got to mention it to you, but I wasnt sure if it would work," he explained as he brought out a pair of white gloves. He remembered the first time, rubbing cloth against the floor where he chalked the simple alchemic circles he'd derived from the sigil on Riza's back. Maes had greeted him back at the door with raucous laughter at his soot-covered face. It wasn't until the autumn season came when he saw the usefulness of gloves. "With the Flame alchemy, I...I might just have a chance at the test." He turned the gloves around to show her the circles inked onto them in red.

She studied his work. It looked almost decorative, with the shapes and the salamanders. She knew this was the symbol of fire in ancient times, so it made sense. She didn't question her decision to let Roy have her father's secrets, she knew that he was the last person on earth who would use it wrongly. And yet, she was afraid. Her father had not wanted his secret to fall into the wrong hands; but he never said which hands were the right ones. Her father had told her that she would know who was deserving of the powerful knowledge but back then she didn't understand. Through the pain of the needles, it was all she could do not to faint. Afterwards he wouldn't talk about it. He went back to not even acknowledging her again, until that fateful day when Roy arrived.

Roy watched her face, doing some studying of his own. He wanted to assure her that she had done the right thing, that he was someone to be trusted. He would use this knowledge to rise up the military ranks to be able to change the country for the better. The exam was a stepping stone of sorts. He didn't know why he came, actually. To tell her? It wasn't like he needed permission or anything, but he guessed she should know.

She kept her expression a mask of nonchalance. "I'd like to watch...would that be alright?" she requested.

Now it was his turn to look surprised. "Really? I...alright. I'm not sure if civilians will be allowed on the testing grounds, but I could ask..."

She nodded gratefully and stood up to carry the dishes to the sink. Roy helped her clean up, and then for the first time in three months, Christmas and the girls don't wake up to freshly-cooked breakfast.

#

The guard by the gates informed them with perfunctory that civilians were not allowed into the head quarters unless they had important business inside. Though a bit disappointed, Riza figured she could just wait for Roy in the park just outside HQ. He seemed worried but she assured him it would be no trouble.

Riza had sat on a bench beside the small lake and shared a piece of bread she picked up on the way with the ducks that made the their home there. Quietly she tossed the small pieces of white bread as the birds quacked and scrambled for them.

"May I take this seat?" Riza glanced up to find a blonde man, around Roy's age, gesturing to the other end of the bench.

"Yes, sure," she answered, smiling warmly at him. He was quite tall, but not too lanky or bulked up. In fact, he was quite easy on the eyes. He smiled back and Riza noted that his teeth were slightly yellow. He had entrancing blue eyes though, and it took her a while to realize she was staring.

The stranger's grin widened. "Are you waiting for someone?" he questioned her.

Riza snapped out of it and quickly looked away. "Actually, I am. Uhm...are you?" she replied, immediately regretting it. Why couldn't she think of something better to say? She was never the outgoing type, and she'd mostly kept to herself at school. The only boy her age she actually interacted with was Roy. And Roy wasn't a guy...he was Roy. Suddenly she found her tongue tangled, and in front of such an attractive stranger too.

"Yeah, I was...but she was supposed to arrive two hours ago," he replied, scratching his chin. "We were supposed to see a movie at the theatre after lunch... Say," he started, glancing at her. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone who'd like to watch the movie with me, would you?"

Riza shook her head, thinking the girls had work that day and she barely knew anyone else. "I-I'm not really from here-" she paused as she grasped the meaning of the look the blond was sending her way. "Are you asking me out?" she blurted, unable to conceal her amazement.

He laughed, but not unkindly. "That depends. Do you accept?"

She stared, astounded by self-esteem and his easy countenance. "I...I would love too, but as I said, I'm waiting for somebody." Not to mention, I don't even know your name, she thought.

"You got a boyfriend?"

"Oh, no. He's just...a friend. Yes. But I promised I'd wait for him here," she answered, flustered.

"Aw, shot down again. Third time today, you know," he informed her in a dejected tone of voice. "And it's only ten in the morning."

She tried to suppress a giggle, to no avail. He looked just like a sad puppy, left out in the rain. "Well, I'm sure you'll find someone soon. You don't seem too bad," she amended. She was greeted by pleasant-sounding laughter. "Thanks little girl. I sure found some comfort in that."

Riza had to smile. "So...what do you do?" She was slowly getting the hang of things.

"Me? Ah, I'm new to town. Planning on enrolling in the military academy next year, though."

"Really? What attracts one to be one a soldier? With the chaos in Ishval, I didn't think a lot would want to, if it meant going to war."

The blond pondered this. "I wouldn't know really. War doesn't sound so bad...I guess I will have to kill someone someday, but if it's to protect me and people I love, then it would be alright. 'Sides, the Amestrian Military Academy means free boarding and meals. It's a lot to consider. What do you do?"

She looked down towards the ducks again. "I'm not really sure...what to do with my life." That was right. Did she have any other plans, besides staying with Christmas? She couldn't live like that forever.

He didn't press. "Hey, it's alright ya know. Half the people I know don't know what to do with their lives. But you're still young. You'll find it soon," he assured her. "Your reason to live."

She smiled, thankful for his reassurance. "Thank you. I don't even know your name, mine is Ri-"

"Riza!" Her head turned as she heard the familiar voice calling her name. "Riza!" She stood up.

"Must be your boyfriend, miss. A soldier, huh? Can't wait to get into uniform and get a girl for myself too," the man mumbled as he too, got up.

"Hello, Roy," she greeted.

"Hope you didn't wait too long," Roy apologized as he approached. "Who's this?" He eyed the blond with an expression Riza could not define. The other man, on the other hand, understood the protectiveness in it.

"Ah, I just met him-"

"Havoc. Jean Havoc, sir," he introduced himself with a slight tip of his hat. He then turned to Riza. "Nice meeting you, Riza, but I've got to leave now." And with that, he walked away.

#

A week had barely passed after that day when Roy entered the kitchen once more. This time, it was early afternoon, and pretty much everyone was around to receive him.

"I have some news," he started, after all the greetings had been exchanged. "I've been assigned to East command." Faces fell at the revelation.

"But Roy-boy!"

"We'll miss you so!"

"You'll be okay?"

He looked at Genevieve, the one who'd asked the last question. "Okay? Sure I'll be okay. I'm already twenty-one years old. Besides, you're looking at Amestris' Flame Alchemist." He paused to let it sink in, and a flurry of giddy laughs and sincere congratulations erupted. He smiled and let himself be bombarded with congratulatory hugs and kisses goodbye.

He would surely miss Christmas and her girls, each and every one of- where did Riza go?

#

Her heart was filled with happiness and accomplishment, though somewhat displaced. All she did was to be his notebook. He wouldn't have gotten there without his own brilliance and alchemic skill. She wanted to congratulate him, but...he was leaving. She had known it was coming, he'd warned her before. But now that he really was...it felt like the first time he left. But now she didn't have her father to keep her busy. Sure Christmas and everyone were nice, but she'd always be a stranger there, especially since Roy would be gone. She'd always be the outsider, not doing anything useful, hanging around the residential hall. Quietly, she left the room while everyone converged upon Roy. She needed a walk to clear her mind.

She was freezing in the cold of a late winter afternoon when she'd decided to walk back home. She knew what she wanted to do now. Of course, he wouldn't approve, but...she knew she wanted to do something with her life. Like that stranger, Havoc, told her a week earlier, she would find her purpose, soon. She hoped he didn't think that she took his dream, but she remembered the little speech Roy had made in front of her father's grave. She realized she would do anything to make that happen. She would support him in his endeavor- and what better way was there to, than to enlist? Her father would kill her if he knew what she was going to do. And in the bitter cold, she smiled.

"Riza." She would've passed the figure by, if he hadn't said a thing. Roy got up from his seat on the steps of the residential compound she stayed in. "Where did you go?"

"I-I had some thinking to do," she answered vaguely. "But congratulations on your promotion. Barely half a year out of the academy, and you're already so far up."

"I couldn't have done it without you, you know."

I know. Of course you couldn't have. I have your secret on my back. "But I didn't do much. Just laid down on the bed," she said, a tinge of irony in her voice. She smiled weakly.

"No, you've been really supportive, you know. Since the time you decided to trust me. Since the time you invited me back to your house. Since the time we were children. Since we met. Thank you...for being such a good friend, Riza."

An awkward pause followed as Riza stared into his dark coal-black eyes and he stared back into her reddish-brown ones. "I...I'll be leaving first thing tomorrow. I've still got to pack and get the paperwork ready, so take care of yourself. I'll write to you often. Don't get into trouble," Roy rambled on.

Riza smiled, genuinely this time. Then she took a step up the stairs to cover the height disadvantage she had, placed her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you, Roy," she whispered to his hair. "I'll miss you."

Surprised, Roy slowly placed his arms on her back and reciprocated. "I'll miss you too, Riza. Don't...change, okay? Stay just as you are. I'll see you again, someday."

This not-so-little girl in his arms would be greatly changed by the time they meet again, though.

They would both be greatly changed by the horror that is Ishval.


	6. Chapter 6

Gosh. You know you haven't written frequently enough when FF. net's login page shows up drastically different.

Okay, I admit it. I have no plot. I'm mostly writing whatever I imagined to happen, and hoping it gets somewhere. I'm sorry. Please excuse yet another sorry piece. But if you're bored, and you know...have nothing else to do, please enjoy. :) Will do my best to churn out new ideas and stories. :)

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#

"What are you doing here missy? Everyone knows girls are too fickle-minded to make decisions, what more in tactical matters?" The loud voice prompted Riza to glance up from her text-book. The students of Platoon Zulu- which included twenty eight men and two women, including herself- had been given a five minute break from Military tactics class, and Riza decided to spend hers with some advance reading. Besides, she liked to keep it quiet. No bothering anybody else. That way, nobody bothered her.

"Did no one ever tell you that women have no place in the military?" It seemed that the noise was coming from a large male in his late teens, facing a woman around Riza's age. From what Riza could see, the girl was seated alone as the guy towered over her. The man, no, overgrown boy was flanked by two slightly smaller but still considerably large men. The irritating taunting continued. "They must have mistaken you for a guy, or how else would a girl have made it through the screening process? What a fluke. That's why you're the only girl here, missy."

Riza's eyes widened slightly and she grimaced. She stood up and walked over, not intending to tell them off (she had never been good with words), but not intending to let them terrorize the poor girl. So much for keeping a low profile.

She realized that the girl was Catalina, the cadette who had the bunk next to hers. They never really got to meet each other, but Riza was familiar with the brunette's name from all the scolding she got from their commanding officer. ("Catalina, quit yapping!", "Catalina, pay attention!")

"I'd say she's more manly than any of you guys." Riza heard deep voice behind her, and she turned to find the stranger she had met in the park last winter.

The rather chubby bully on the left sneered. "What did you say?"

In a sudden burst of confidence, maybe from having someone else speak up first, Riza spoke in her high but strong voice. "He said, that you guys are cowards. Chauvinistic cretins who can't tell a girl from a guy."

"Exactly." Jean Havoc- that was his name, Riza remembered, had stood up from his seat and walked next to her. "Now if you don't leave her alone, I'll have to-"

He never got to finish his threat, as the teacher announced that break was over. Like young schoolchildren, they all scurried back to their seats. Maybe normal tertiary educational institutions weren't like that, but the military academy was all about the rules. You broke them, you did push-ups. In front of everyone. And no one liked extra push-ups.

Riza knew that whatever Havoc's threat was, he would have had no trouble going through with it. She hadn't paid much attention to it when she had seen him last, but maybe he'd grown in that span of time. He was pushing six feet, she estimated. But his wasn't the lanky, boyish build of a recently grown teen. Even from her seat, she could see that his white uniform shirt strained against a good amount of arm muscle. And he was definitely taller than those bullies.

Finally, the bell rang- but classes weren't over yet. Casual interaction was frowned upon during school hours, so technically, those three guys were already out of line. It wasn't that Riza was scared, but she dreaded the chance the three would get the idea to corner her during lunch or after class. She really should have stuck to keeping her head low.

"Hello, Hawkeye." Riza heard the voice and looked up from her meal tray. It was Catalina, who stood with her own tray. "Is anyone sitting here?" She motioned towards the seat directly across Riza. Riza shook her head. "You're welcome to take it."

"I just want to say...thanks, for this morning. It sucks when there are only two girls in class and you're the one everybody dislikes."

"Only because they don't notice I'm a girl, Catalina," Riza said, a grimace on her face. "They'll pick on any girl wanting to be in the military. They think it's wholly men's territory."

"But that cutie this morning didn't seem to think so, huh? I wonder who he is," the brunette smiled as she took a spoon of the mashed potato-like-substance.

"I think his name's-"

"Cadet Jean Havoc, at your service, mademoiselles." His voice carried over the noise in the mess hall and prompted both Riza and her companion to look up.

Catalina grinned, sitting up straighter. "Cadette Rebecca Catalina. Thanks a lot for earlier."

Havoc took the space beside Rebecca before anyone invited him to. "No problem, Catalina. Though I think Riza here had the same idea. I just beat her to it."

"Riza?" Rebecca turned to Riza and stared at her with slight accusation. "You two are...acquainted?"

"Oh, no, not really," the taller blond exclaimed before Riza could get a word in edgewise. "We met once before, but I only got her first name." He turned to Riza. "Sorry for being so rude, Cadette Riza..."

"Hawkeye," she finished for him.

"Hawkeye. Anyway, those guys were annoying the hell out of me too."

Rebecca cheered up at realizing that Havoc and Hawkeye weren't together. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow at that, but Rebecca just gave her a sly smile before turning to the man next to her. "I'm curious, Havoc, what were you threatening to do earlier? That if they didn't stop...?"

"Oh. I was going to say if they didn't stop, I'd tell the instructor about how..." Havoc paused when he saw Rebecca's face fall. "I just realized how that sounds."

"Pfft." Two pairs of eyes turned to the one who made the disparaging sound. Riza had started laughing out loud. "I thought you...were going to...beat them up or something," she got out in between amused laughing.

Even Rebecca had to smile. "Me too. I thought you'd say something to the effect of, I'll pound you to bits if you dont stop messing with that girl. That's what I would've said, if I were in your place."

Havoc grinned in self-deprecation. "I guess you are manlier than anyone in our class, Catalina."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rebecca frowned.

"He just means that you've got more guts than any of the guys, Catalina," Riza cut in, while nudging Jean with her boot, trying to warn him.

"No, I didn't mean tha-ow!"

It would be the start of a beautiful friendship. As soon Jean realized Rebecca and Riza weren't the kind of girls he wanted to, or rather, could pick up. And as soon as Rebecca convinced herself that Jean was not her type. Really.

Meanwhile, in Central. "Hm...what's your name, boy?"

Roy stood up straighter as soon as he realized the major general was addressing him. It was standard operational procedure to stop and salute to a higher officer every time you passed them by, but higher officers, especially generals, did not usually pay attention to the little soldiers. There was no reason to. "Sir, Major Roy Mustang, sir. I was assigned here almost six months ago, sir."

"Really? Are you that state alchemist they sent over?"

"Yes sir, the Flame Alchemist, sir," Roy replied without a trace of boastfulness.

Major General Grumman's eyebrows shot up. "Flame alchemy? That's very interesting. Come, I want to interview you."

Roy promptly walked after the general, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He followed the general into his office, where a large portrait of a family hung. It was of the general, and two women. The older one, he concluded, was the wife while the younger one would be his daughter.

"That's my wife, and my daughter, Rosalie," Grumman proudly exclaimed when he notice Mustang staring. "They were both stunners, back when they were alive," he continued on sadly. Mustang didn't know what to say. Grumman closed the door of his office and motioned for Roy to sit down at a table by the side. It had a chess set meticulously arranged on top of it. "Do you play chess, Major Mustang?"

Roy tore his eyes from the portrait. Funny, the daughter's serious auburn eyes looked so very familiar. She was beautiful, in a frail kind of way. But so very familiar. "I have before, sir, but I don't think I'm very good." Roy sat on the chair.

"Play a round with me, then, while we talk," Grumman's invited, seating himself on the chair across Roy. Roy glanced at his watch. He would have to report to his commanding officer soon...and surely the general had no time to play chess.

"Where did you learn alchemy, young man?" Grumman asked as he moved his white pawn.

"Sir, from my teacher, the late Mr. Berthold Hawkeye, in a small Eastern town quite a ways from here, sir"

"Hawkeye... Is he the recluse who lived with his daughter?"

"Ah, sir, yes, sir. His wife passed before I met them, but I lived with them for a while, sir."

"But he himself passed, and you enlisted. What became of the daughter?" Grumman looked attentively at Roy above his glasses, almost betraying the 'just curious' act he was trying to put on.

"The daughter, sir?" Roy was too nervous to think of why the line of questioning had gone in that direction. "From what I know, she's living in Central now, sir." He moved his black knight and took a white pawn.

"Alone?"

"No, she's living with...some girls. They work in a bar called the Duchess."

Grumman's eyebrow rose, and so did his voice. "She's working in a bar-? And in that bar?" he all but sputtered.

Roy looked up, puzzled by the older man's reaction. "Well, technically, she's too young to work in a bar, so no, she just resides with the girls from there."

"Well, I mean, if she were from a small town in the East, working at...that bar would shock her, I'd bet."

"You're acquainted with the place, sir?" Roy was surprised. The general didn't seem like it. But he guessed the general wasn't a very easy man to read.

Grumman chuckled. "It seems that you are too. I visited Madam Christmas often, before I was posted here. Very charming lady."

Roy looked at him in disbelief. Of course, he couldn't tell him he was related to Christmas. But it was astounding to find out his aunt knew one of the top brass. Well, she should, in her line of work...Roy made a face. He really didn't want to think about that right now.

"Checkmate."

Roy blinked, sort of relieved that the topic could be changed. He smiled. "Well done, sir, I didn't see that coming at all."

"You're not a very bad player yourself, Mustang. You saw that I was targeting your rooks first so I could wedge my knight to get to your king. The move you made to entrap my knight with your pawn, that was remarkable."

"Thank you, sir."

"Well, you can go now, Mustang. I believe Colonel Matthews will be looking for you. Oh, and do tell him that I've reassigned you. I'd like you to report to me in my office from now on."

Roy's hand shot up in a crisp salute. "Sir...thank you, sir," he replied, unsure of what else to say.

"So she's safe after all. I should give Christmas a call," the general mumbled as Mustang let himself out.

#


	7. Chapter 7

C: Enjoy. Thanks for all the encouragement. :D I don't know if you saw my other fic, but I mentioned there that it might take me a while to update anything...but expect me at least once a month. C: Sorry. :C

* * *

"You know, if Rebecca were here, she'd be telling you to keep your chin up, Riza," Jean said quietly, so that only Riza could hear him over the roar of the engine of the army jeep they were in, en route to Ishval.

The death toll and property damage had escalated and soldiers were going MIA left and right. Seven years into the Ishval Rebellion and now war was raging. It was said that the Ishvallans were obstinate, refusing to surrender. It was also said that the Amestrian army's attempts on peace negotiations have all failed. Many people around Amestris questioned the effort put into those attempts, though no one really spoke up.

The lack of soldiers prompted the early deployment of exceptional students in the academy, and Riza and Jean happened to be the top marksmen- well, markswoman and marksman- in their class. They were a total of twenty, with ages ranging from as young as eighteen to twenty-four. It had soon dawned to most of them that they were entering the war zone, and were virtually going to be on the front lines.

Barely nineteen years old, Riza looked up and smiled nervously at Havoc. She was the first in her class, nicknamed the "Hawk's eye". She was also the only woman in their platoon of snipers. It had taken her almost two years, but now she was respected by all her class. Jean had come in fourth, not too shabbily, even with the easygoing attitude that got him into trouble more than once.

Though she was dreading the idea of shooting down an actual living human being (as everyone else certainly was), she was also worried about seeing a certain someone. Some of the State Alchemists had been recently called in to assist in the rehabilitation and repair of the war damage, and that essentially could mean Roy.

Roy. She had been following his progress, mostly through the gossip network. He was making a name for himself as the youngest State Alchemist to date. Actually, he was more like a celebrity. She had heard through the grapevine that he showed potential as a great commander, but had a bad habit of womanizing, apparently learnt from General Grumman of East command who was notorious as a lady-killer in his day, or so she heard. She had wanted to find him again, but she was nervous- he seemed like a drastically different person with what everyone said about him, compared to the Roy she had known. Or had she really known him? What would she find when she met him again?

It was completely irrational. Here she was, going to war, and all she could think about was Roy. She probably only liked him because of proximity- not like she'd met a lot of boys in her early teenage years, much less hung out with any. She loved him, if only because she was starved for attention back in those days. And he gave it to her. But he was her first love, and she couldn't forget about it just like that.

Finally, Riza sighed, and shook her head, as if to rid herself of thoughts about him. She did as Rebecca would have said, and lifted her chin up. She had to be professional.

#

Their orders were to come in whenever a platoon claimed an area Ishvallan-free and to guard the perimeter.

By now even the most happy-go-lucky of their bunch found himself unsmiling. Jean Havoc surveyed the area for any sign of the rebellious race before turning to his right, to the woman on her stomach just a few feet away from him. Riza had set up nest on the same roof building Jean had chosen.

"Don't get distracted Havoc," she abruptly spoke up, just as he opened his mouth. She had one eye closed, the other looking through the scope attached to her pristine rifle.

"I...but Hawkeye...can we really do this?"

She remained silent for a while, before replying in a low voice: "It's our duty to Amestris".

That's when they heard the gunshot. Things had been eerily peaceful since they'd arrived, and so both Jean and Riza snapped to attention. There was a large group of Ishvallan men approaching the perimeter, apparently armed. "We've come to take back our home!" the one who seemed like their leader roared. Without even shifting, Riza pulled the trigger.

The head of the bunch dropped down as blood spurted out from between his red eyes. The men next to him scrambled to take cover among ruins and exchanged bullets with the foot soldiers patrolling the area, but Havoc and the rest of the snipers were ready. After about fifteen seconds of deafening gunfire, an eerie silence fell over the scene. Nobody celebrated. The Ishvallan was right. This was their home. Why were they being driven away from it?

The day continued in a blur, Riza's sniping unit getting assigned to more serious situations. Thirty two- she hadn't lost count of her kills, but she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

So far she was feeling fine. Some of the first timers looked sick as the realization of having killed somebody, a living person. To Riza, it just felt...surreal. Like a dream. Or a nightmare, that she hadn't awakened from yet.

The sun was setting, and the Amestrian military had just taken another small town. She and Jean had an unspoken agreement to set up near each other every time they moved, and presently she was listening to his breaths, slightly panting, distressed.

"Hey," he started to say, his voice rough. "The sun's gone." So were the lives of a ton of Ishvallan men.

Riza was already swinging her gun over her shoulder. There was nothing a sniper could really shoot at night, so they'd been instructed to just proceed back to the campsite when the sun set. She walked in the direction of stairs that would lead to the lower floors.

"How can you be so calm?" Havoc's voice rose as he did. "Those were fathers, brothers, sons of some people." Riza didn't know which one was clenched tighter- his jaw or his fists.

"Don't you think I realized that? But this is war, Jean. What did you expect?" Riza fought to keep her tone even, matching Jean's intense expression with a piercing look of her own.

"I...I don't know." Jean's blue eyes suddenly looked tired and resigned, and Riza wondered if hers were the same way. "But..." He shook his head and wiped at his dusty face with his the back of his left hand. "I need...time alone. Would...you mind going...ahead?"

Riza nodded and had just stepped into the building (to take the stairs down) when she heard the low sobs, similar to growling. Jean was being naïve, she thought to herself as she descended the staircase. But as soon as she stepped onto the landing, as soon as she was alone and out of anyone's hearing distance- she felt her face crumple up and an ugly sob leave her mouth. She pressed her fist against her lips, but it didn't stop. She fell to her knees, her rifle clattering onto the ground beside her. Her heart hurt and she shuddered in the biting cold. The escaping sobs left a hollow space in her chest, but trying to keep it in hurt inexplicably worse. And so she continued to sob into her dirty uniform sleeve.

#

Roy unsmilingly surveyed the destruction around him. He had been deployed, along with many other state alchemists, to help fix the war sites and machinery that had been destroyed in the midst of battle. As he chalked an alchemic circle onto the ground, he sighed. "Why must all this destruction even happen?" He questioned to nobody in particular.

His heart was heavy as he took in the sight of the bodies. Casualties of war. But he'd forged on. By the end of the day he was feeling more worn out than he had ever been in his life. He barely had the strength to greet Maes Hughes, whom he hadn't talked to since Roy's transfer to the East. They'd caught sight of each other in the morning, before they had to work.

"Hey." Hughes greeted, plopping down in front of a fire onto the space next to Roy. "I bet everyone here loves a convenient matchstick, huh?" he said, referring to Roy's ability.

"It's the least I could do for the soldiers on a cold night like this. Sometimes I just wish..." he glanced to the hospital tent to his left, "...my alchemy could help heal."

"Physical or emotional wounds?"

"Both." Roy grimaced. "Things have been harsh on you guys," he stated.

"It's been almost seven years, Roy. I've been in the fifth infantry for two of them..."

"How do you find it in yourself to actually...pull the trigger?"

Maes frowned. "Don't judge me, Roy. It's either kill or be killed here. I'm into self-preservation. Besides, you're here. You won't leave guilt-free." The words hung heavily in the air. An awkward silence passed, Roy looking at his dusty boots.

"But let's not fight, Roy. I want to know what you've been up to. I need a distraction," Maes finally spoke, massaging his forehead as if to soothe a headache.

Roy looked up in surprise. "Well...last week I received my summons to Ishval. They told me to come here and await further instructions."

"How's Madame Christmas?"

"I haven't been to Central since graduation, but the girls write to me sometimes."

"And the future Mrs. Mustang?"

Roy glanced at him, perplexed. "Future Mrs. What?"

"You got a girlfriend or something?" Hughes clarified, smiling. The previous tension in the air disappeared almost completely.

"No, I-"

"Well I can't wait until you meet the future Mrs. Hughes! Her name's Gracia, and she agreed to wait for me! In fact, she even sends me letters! Here's a picture..." Hughes carefully extracted a photo from his jacket pocket.

"How can you be so sure?" Roy asked, baffled, but feeling his spirits lifted up in happiness for his friend. "Just don't disappoint her by not showing up," he advised.

"I'll try not to." Hughes grinned. But once this is over, I'm setting you up with a girl. Based on what I've heard about you through the grapevine, you're in serious need of a real girlfriend."

"Oh?" Roy raised an eyebrow. "What have you heard about me?"

"Well, you've been making a name for yourself, Major Mustang." Hughes' grin widened. "Youngest ever state alchemist?"

Roy couldn't help but grin. He was particularly proud of that. There weren't many gifted alchemists under the age of twenty five, and he had received his license barely two years ago, at twenty one. He would go down in history as the youngest state alchemist ever.

"I've also heard that you've stolen the hearts of all the women in East command," Hughes continued.

Roy had the decency to frown and deny it. "That isn't true."

Hughes let out a hoot of laughter. "Didn't I tell you? You know, you should use this to your advantage. Being known as a lady-killer might have its advantages."

"I'll remember that, Maes," Roy smiled. He missed the academy. Work was fun...just...more serious. He remembered complaining as a student, and couldn't imagine what he had to complain about then.

"The new recruits came in today, right after you. Can you believe they're sending out students now?" Maes asked him disbelievingly.

Roy shook his head, agreeing with his friend. There was a kid next in line to him at the ration tent. He was Roy's age, but Roy considered himself an exception. At least he _had graduated_.

"Just how does the government justify sending under-qualified soldiers here? The youngest ones are the snipers. They sent the second years, saying that they wouldn't actually be on the front lines. There are actual teenagers in the camp right now, you know." Maes's frown deepened.

Roy's mind went to the one teenager he knew- Riza. Riza Hawkeye would be what? Nineteen right now? He wondered what had happened to her after she'd given him her father's secrets. She'd stopped writing letters, just as she had when he'd left her home so many years ago. Roy had even written Chris about her, but Chris assured him that Riza was okay. She had found her own living space and visited sometimes.

Roy hoped she wouldn't hear about this. His deployment. He was now in the battlefield. Sure he'd expected he'd have to be here one day but he didn't think it would be so soon. Three years into the Ishval civil war...everyone thought it would end. But it stretched on, and now was on its seventh year. Roy hoped the Ishvallans would surrender soon. So the nightmare would end just as soon.


End file.
